Tell Me This is Just a Dream
by booksindalibrary
Summary: Makoto woke with a lump on his head and finds his life is a bit strange (but not uncool). High school AU, cross-posted from AO3 under the same title.
1. Chapter 1

He knew nothing, but surely _this_ wasn't normal. After all, a girl with a skirt almost _too_ short was standing in front of him, glaring and kicking up an unholy fuss.

"You're so reckless, you'll get yourself killed," the girl was ranting, and hell. He was vaguely aware that he had done something, but wasn't sure what. Also the faint feeling this girl wasn't behaving normally, either – but firstly, he had to deal with the blank he was drawing.

He rubbed his head – _ow, don't touch that lump –_ and squinted at her. "Yeah."

The girl blinked at him, confusion glazing over her eyes. "Um, Makoto-san, are you okay?"

Ma-ko-to. He tested it in his head, then decided it worked. "Okay then. Who are you?"

The girl blinked, this time shocked. "You know who I am."

Makoto – maybe it wasn't his name, but he'd keep it – looked around. "No, I don't."

A high school, he thought vaguely, scratching his head. But where was everyone? In class? It was about midday, or so he thought, judging by the sun. or his watch, he thought, eyeing it with scepticism. It was afternoon, so-

The girl took a step back, almost fearful of the look on his face. "Uh, Makoto-san?"

She wasn't normally like this, but Makoto didn't know. He knew nothing. What was this girl's name? They knew each other, clearly.

"Maybe we should go to the nurse's office," the girl said, brushing her black hair aside. Okay, no. This girl was _annoying_ him for reasons he didn't understand.

Makoto was dragged along anyway, stumbling and wondering if the suit he was wearing was the boys' uniform. A sailor uniform for the girls, and a suit for the boys? Surely the fedora had nothing to do with it.

He collapsed on the bed almost immediately, and when he woke again, it was already sunset.

He jerked back up violently, nearly falling over sideways as dizziness overwhelmed him. _How uncool,_ he thought. His jacket was off, flung over the back of the chair next to him. When he glanced over to the door, the girl was there-

With a boy that looked like her, and why did they look so similar?

"Oh," the boy said, approaching and smiling. "Makoto, you're awake."

He eyed the boy, rubbing his head. "Yeah...and who are you?"

The boy was taken back by this, freezing in shock and shooting a look at his sister. "Um." He gathered himself quickly, and 'Makoto' respected that recovery time. "I'm Honjo, and this is my sister, Yuri Honjo. You...really don't remember anything?"

Makoto – that was his name, _he had to remember_ – shook his head, instantly regretting the motion. "No. Well, I sort of do, but not enough to form definite facts." He looked at them drily. "For instance, I am here, talking to you."

"True," the boy – Honjo, his name was Honjo – said, nodding and seemingly taking this in his stride. "So, do you remember me?"

Makoto narrowed his eyes at Honjo. "What's your first name?"

Honjo flushed, and the girl – Yuri Honjo, remember that, he told himself – seemed to expand with anger.

"Rika," Honjo said, so quietly Makoto thought he misheard. But the name clicked, and Makoto nodded. A ridiculous name, Makoto thought on impulse, resisting the urge to click his tongue. No, he couldn't, because that would be _uncool._

"And my name is Makoto," he told himself, frowning. Why was he drawing a blank?

"We should take you to the hospital. The nurse has been out, and really, we should've from the start."

Makoto jerked around, glaring. "No."

"But-"

" _No"_ Makoto forced his will on Honjo viciously, enough for Rika to flinch away and avert his eyes.

"Fine," he said, although he didn't sound happy about it.

"What happened?" Makoto directed this at Yuri.

The girl met his eyes almost defiantly, then said, "You got into another fight."

Another fight. _Another_ fight. So he did this frequently. "How uncool," Makoto said in distaste absently.

"Not really. You were defending someone," Yuri admitted, scratching the back of her head.

Makoto considered this. "So, it _was_ cool."

Why the hell that word kept popping up was beyond Makoto, but he'd go with it for now.

"You're wearing a uniform," Makoto noted at Rika – maybe he should call him Honjo. 'Rika' was making him want to snicker.

Honjo gave him a strange look. "Yeah? We're in school."

Makoto raised an eyebrow and gestured at his shirt and tie. (Not to mention the trousers, and the shoes he was wearing. Why hadn't they been removed? It was like they had taken off his jacket and then became lazy...so much for _tending to him.)_

"Oh." Honjo relaxed. "That's just..well, you were in a play."

"I. Was in a play." Makoto found that hard to believe.

"Well. Kuon-chan _begged_ you to, so. It just sort of happened."

"Kuon?" Makoto waited for them to explain.

"Shinzaki," Yuri supplied.

Makoto waited for more, then impatiently waved his hand.

"She's nice."

"Really nice," Yuri added.

"And she's usually the director of the plays. Or the lead actress, whichever is more suitable for her."

Makoto _knew_ this should tell him something, but this amnesia of his stubbornly refused to offer anything.

"Hm. I suppose that explains it."Makoto rubbed his eyes, then looked at the siblings again. "So. Where do I live?"

Really, he should've known they wouldn't let him.

Instead, they smuggled Makoto into their home, stuffing him in Rika's room. How he managed to fit inside his closet was a mystery, but drastic measures, and all that.

They grabbed clothes for him as well, so Makoto was left in a loose shirt and ill-fitting pants, further embarrassing him.

"Do you think the amnesia will pass?" Yuri asked her brother.

"I don't know," Rika answered, and Makoto blew out violently.

"If it doesn't, I suppose I really will have to see a doctor." Even if the very thought reduced his core to a rioting mess.

From what he had asked (and gathered), Rika was in his second year of high school, Yuri a year behind; Makoto was in his last and finishing up. Kuon was in the same class as Yuri, and apparently the term _demon class_ had been tossed around in reference to this lot of first years. Something to do with a certain Nise and the fire extinguisher, as well as the general tendency of the female population to resort to violence.

Not that Makoto objected to it, seeing as he himself was evidently violent. His knuckles had scarring, not to mention – the prominent scar on his face.

Whatever had happened, there was something Rika was not telling. When Yuri left to go to bed, Makoto took the opportunity to drag answers out of Rika.

The other sighed and raised his hands in defeat. "Okay, fine," he relented. "I'll tell you – but whether or not it's _cool_ to you ain't up to me, got it?"

"Of course."

Rika leaned forwards, suddenly serious. _Uh oh._

"You're a vigilante."

...Well, that was unexpected. Makoto blinked in surprise, already feeling a grin crawling up his face. A high school student by day, a vigilante by night? Cool.


	2. Chapter 2

The morning offered Makoto nothing new by way of memories. All he had was emptiness in his mind and a weight in his stomach. Rika gave him breakfast, and how he managed to get the food to his room was another mystery.

"Rika."

The boy looked at Makoto expectantly. "Yeah?"

"What sort of vigilante was I?"

"A...cool one."

"Not helpful. I need more to go on. What were my ideals?"

Rika hesitated. "Well...basically, whatever you liked to do. Nothing like the ones in movies, that's for sure."

Makoto snorted. "What sort of person was I, then? That sounds very vague."

Rika shrugged. "A...cool person. But honestly, you had your own set of morals."

Makoto tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. "Interesting." He stood abruptly, smiling slightly. "So. Where do I live, and how should I behave?"

Once again, Makoto should've known Rika wouldn't let him go by himself – but why did he send his sister? Yuri seemed to dislike him, and Makoto disliked _her_ in turn. He didn't like this tension, either, but any attempt to break the ice failed spectacularly.

Makoto was just grateful he was wearing the suit and not the clothes from last night.

"Here." Yuri stopped in front of an apartment block, gazing up. "You live in there."

Makoto stopped next to her, squinting at the building. "More information would be helpful."

Yuri flapped her hands vaguely, then sighed. "Fine. I'll lead you to it."

She walked into the building, seemingly uncaring if Makoto followed her or not. He did, hating how awkward the lift ride was.

"Makoto-san," a girl's voice said, and Makoto resisted the urge to slap at the source.

"Yes?" He looked at the new person, wracking his brain in case he found a stray memory. (He didn't.)

Yuri beamed at her. "Shinzaki-chan," she said, glancing pointedly at Makoto.

"Shinzaki-san," Makoto said, studying her.

Shinzaki's face fell. "Makoto-san..." she hesitated. "Did I do something to upset you?"

Painfully aware of the term _demon class,_ he glanced at Yuri, on the verge of panicking.

"Makoto's preparing for a new role," Yuri covered smoothly. "He's playing the part of a hitman."

Shinzaki perked up instantly. "That sounds interesting! What's the plot?"

"A gentleman hitman gets amnesia and has to rediscover his life, while navigating through the criminal underworld."

 _Sounds like a shit play,_ Makoto was about to say, before he realised that this was supposed to be his role. Playing along, Makoto scraped his features clear and said, "Indeed, Shinzaki-san, Honjo-san. Now, if you'll excuse me, I would like to change my clothes." Apparently his tone was convincing enough for Shinzaki to squeal and clap her hands.

Yuri sighed. "Yeah. Well, there's your apartment." She pointed it out to him, glaring as Makoto unlocked the door and invited them in.

Shinzaki accepted, and Yuri followed after Shinzaki.

His apartment was surprisingly bare. He changed clothes and then served them tea, struggling to find where everything was in the kitchen. But he managed to do so as Shinzaki chattered on to Yuri about their so-called _project._ Makoto eavesdropped so he would know even just a little bit.

"The play centers around a masked man fighting his brainwashing in order to help the girl he loves," Shinzaki was telling Yuri solemnly.

Makoto set down the tea and, pouring for all of them, asked, "How's your day been so far?"

Shinzaki smiled at Makoto. "It's been great!" She took a sip from her cup. While she seemed to enjoy it, Yuri sniffed at it suspiciously and eyed Makoto.

Shinzaki kept the conversation alive, until after about twenty minutes her phone buzzed. "Sorry, I have to go," she said, standing and staring at her phone. "My parents want to see me."

"It's fine," Makoto said, leading her to the front door. Yuri was drilling holes into the back of his head as he said, "I'll see you later."

Shinzaki waved goodbye before leaving.

Sighing, Makoto turned and asked, "What is your problem with me?"

Yuri sneered a bit. "You know what."

Makoto glared. "No, I don't. And why didn't you let me back here last night?"

"Because if someone catches you here, you're screwed," Yuri pointed out, her tone saying _I told you so._ Admittedly, if he had been by himself, he wouldn't have known how to deal with Shinzaki.

"And I don't like you because you toy with girls."

 _Toy with girls?_ His life seemed to be getting stranger and stranger. "No, I don't," Makoto defended, more out of obligation to himself than anything else.

Yuri snorted. "And what would you know? You don't remember anything."

Makoto spread his hands. "Explain, then. What exactly did I do?"

"You seduce girls," Yuri said bluntly. "You date them for a little while, then drop them after a week. Usually publicly."

Makoto felt as though he had been slapped. "I can't be. That's...so _uncool._ "

Yuri glared at him some more, making it clear she did not like him. "I'm leaving."

Makoto was left with his jaw loose and the sense that he had lost something. As she turned to leave, Makoto lunged forwards with surprising agility, catching her arm. "Wait, are you _serious?_ That's...gross." He forced his disgust into his words, but Yuri's eyes became even more steely. She yanked her arm out of his grasp and hissed, "I don't want to talk to you."

Makoto was left alone with invasive thoughts and a twisted gut.

After showering briefly and changing into more comfortable clothes, both of which were a mission (thank goodness he was tidy), he called Rika.

"Was your sister telling the truth?" He forced himself to sound calm and a little puzzled.

"...About what?" Rika sounded cautious.

"She told me before she left that I _toyed_ with girls and dumped them publicly." Makoto waited for a response.

Rika sighed down the line. "Well, you were going to find out sooner or later."

"About what?" Makoto now sounded flat.

"She was fudging the truth. You don't really toy with them, and you _don't_ dump them publicly. "

"Spit it out," Makoto said, irritated.

"You used to date Yuri," Rika told him. "You had a fight in public, and it was pretty much a public humiliation."

Makoto felt the air in his lungs rush out. "Fuck," he managed to say, surprised at the swear. "You're joking."

"I'm not." Rika sounded firm.

"Okay then." Makoto hung up, dropping the phone and sliding to the ground. He didn't know why it was such a shock, just that – it was so tremendously uncool, he had to collect himself for a bit.


	3. Chapter 3

Makoto opened the door, surprised to see Rika of all people there. Rika smiled at him cheerfully, letting himself in.

"Thought I'd ta- tell you about the whole vigilante thing," he said, lounging on Makoto's couch with too much ease.

Makoto eyed him suspiciously. "What were you going to say originally?"

"Uh, nothing?"

Makoto frowned at him. "Tell me."

Rika relented. "Okay, I was going to say that I'd take you to show you how." He waited patiently for Makoto to react.

Makoto sucked in a deep breath, hearing himself say, " _Take_ me? So you're a vigilante too?"

Rika winced. "Uh, yeah, kinda."

Makoto took a deep breath, sitting down beside him. He clutched the sides of his head, before saying, eyes still closed, "Is there anything else I should know?"

Rika cleared his throat. "Yuri and Nise are also a duo," he said weakly.

Makoto resisted the urge to scream.

~o0o~

Makoto held the mask in his hand, glancing at Rika in disbelief. A smile was carved into it, and Makoto put it around his face cautiously. A perfect fit. Although it resembled the one he wore at the beginning of this mess a little _too_ closely.

"Rika," Makoto said. "This is what I chose?"

Rika shrugged. "And a suit, as well."

"I thought you said I was in a play."

"You were."

"Why does this look like what I woke up in?"

"...The play may or may not have been inspired by you," Rika admitted. "Not that anyone knows it."

Makoto sighed, exasperated. "This keeps getting worse." A pause. "So, that girl, Shinzaki-san. Decided to create a play about _me_ starring _me._ "

"Well...Rumour has it..." Rika bit his lip.

"What is it?"

"Shinzaki apparently has a crush on you since you saved her from those sleazebags, and has a crush on the vigilante since he saved her as well..."

"How much trouble, exactly, does she get into?"

"None, any more."

"How reassuring," Makoto said sarcastically. "So what, she can't decide between us despite the fact we are one and the same?"

"Exactly." Rika made fingerguns at him. _Uncool,_ Makoto thought dryly. "Some inner conflict, although she's leaning towards you – or the normal Makoto, anyway."

"How do you know all this?"

"She talks about it. A lot."

Makoto arched an eyebrow. "She talks about her crush on _me?"_

"Eh. Not so much the crush, but about _you._ " Rika raised his voice to a falsetto. "'Oh, he's so cool when he plays sport and he's _so_ wonderful when he stands up to give speeches!-""

Makoto frowned at him. "I have no words."

"Neither do I." Rika shrugged amicably. "It's weird, but you never seem to do anything about it." _You've even encouraged it,_ he seemed to be telling Makoto silently. _By inviting her in and acting the gentleman._

He wasn't to know, Makoto wanted to snap back. He had forgotten everything.

But really, he should have picked up on the signs. She had been flushed, smiling eagerly at him-

He put his head in his hands with a loud groan. Rika stayed quiet as Makoto thought about what a jerk he was.

A complete asshole, he thought bitterly. Dumping Yuri publicly and humiliating her, being a vigilante of all things for unknown reasons (likely a power trip), and toying with Shinzaki-san's heart, getting into fights – why was he like this? Why wasn't he a good person, or at least _normal ?_

"Sorry," Rika admitted. "I didn't mean to surprise you with all this."

Makoto grimaced, head still in hands. He began rocking gently back and forth. "I'm a complete, irredeemable shit," he said bitterly.

"No, you're not."

"Urgh. Maybe this is why I forgot everything – to realise what sort of person I am."

A longer pause. "Makoto. You're a good person."

"How?"

"You stand up to bullies, and you stand up for those without a voice."

 _Poetic bullshit,_ Makoto thought, letting Rika continue anyway.

"You've saved a lot of people as a vigilante. People love you."

 _But for how long?_

"You've more than made up for anything you've done in the past."

Makoto frowned at him. "Have I done anything else that needs to be said?"

Rika shrugged. "I mean some thugs or Yakuza might come after you, but I don't know."

"You...don't know," he repeated slowly. "But you think it's likely?"

Rika smiled sheepishly at him again. "So how about, let's go do some crimefighting when it gets dark?"

Makoto tried to glare, but gave up. He was more exhausted than anything else. "If you think it'll work out," he said reluctantly.

"Of course it will," Rika replied optimistically.

~o0o~

"So uh. All we do is pose on rooftops?" Makoto's voice was muffled by the mask.

Rika looked at him through his faceless mask. "...It seems like we do that a lot," he admitted.

Makoto clicked his tongue in disapproval. "It would be better if, say, we actually did something."

Rika shrugged, then paused. "You hear that yelling?"

Makoto stilled, tilting his head. "Hm. Yes. Do you think-?"

"Let's go," Rika said excitedly, pointing down at the ground.

Makoto followed Rika down to the ground, easily keeping pace with his Rika's shorter strides. Rika also knew the backroads through the city, it seemed; Makoto trusted him enough to allow him to take point.

And then the pair came across a fight. Makoto glanced at Rika, making sure that this was the sort of thing they did – breaking up fights.

Apparently it was. They got to work.

~o0o~

 _'Work'_ , Makoto thought. They had taken one look at him and ran. Was the mask really that uncool?

"It's your reputation," Rika said by way of explanation. Makoto only looked blankly back at him.

"My reputation," he repeated slowly. "Damn, Rika, what sort of _reputation_ do I have?"

Rika shrugged helplessly. "A good one, mostly. But everyone knows you have killer fighting skills."

 _Killer fighting-?_ The words rung in his head, almost as if it was chipping away at whatever was blocking his memories.

The night continued a lot like this. They headed to anywhere that needed it, and the opposition either fled or was dealt with by Rika. "No need for you to get involved," he explained, although he swung his wooden sword a little too viciously to be convincing.

Bored, Makoto leaned against a wall. He sighed. "Isn't there anything else we do?"

Rika stopped, then jerked his head forward. "We can't linger too much in one place. And no," he added, "Not much, not since, uh. Well..." He looked awkward.

"Rika? You're hiding yet another thing."

Rika winced. "I am. Yeah."

"You're going to tell me."

"Tomorrow," he promised. "But now, it's-" he checked his watch, "-2am, and we should get some sleep in."

"Hasn't anyone figured out we're students, from this schedule?"

Rika winked at Makoto. "That's _today's_ plan. Our system changes quite a bit. The times, the routes – all randomised. Don't worry."

Makoto nodded. At least his former self wasn't stupid as well as an arsehole, he reflected darkly.


End file.
